


Passion, Pressure

by escspace



Category: Noblesse (Manhwa)
Genre: Anal Fingering, F/F, F/M, M/M, Modern Ragar AU, Oral, Orgasm Denial, Vaginal Fingering, hermaphrodite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:41:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23616142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escspace/pseuds/escspace
Summary: Raizel brings Ragar to the edge again and again, and Ragar would not have it any other way.
Relationships: Frankenstein (Noblesse)/Ragar Kertia, Frankenstein/Ragar Kertia/Cadis Etrama Di Raizel, Ragar Kertia/Cadis Etrama di Raizel
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	Passion, Pressure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Queen_of_the_Ruckus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_of_the_Ruckus/gifts).



As Ragar is carefully divested of his jacket, he ponders upon the nature of their shared intimacy. To this day, he is immensely honored to be within the company of both Frankenstein and Sir Raizel such that wantoness and vulgarity become well recieved displays of affection, however shameless.

With Frankenstein, Ragar must prepare himself to be taken, to be _fucked_ , ruthlessly. Frankenstein's fondness of violence and of tearing apart haughty nobles such as himself is something Ragar is well familiar with. Not that he minds, of course; Ragar meets his friend with just as much enthusiasm. When they are together, Ragar can be made to cum any number of times, over and over again without rest, without mercy. Seeing Ragar tremble and jerk and gasp helplessly until his body is exhausted out of his mind seems to bring Frankenstein particular joy. Brought to the point at which he can hardly comprehend his surroundings or own body in the haze of pleasure is a unique experience that Ragar has sought again and again, excrutiatingly set ablaze until he burns himself out.

With Sir Raizel, Ragar only needs to cum once, but it is hard earned. Raizel is many times slower, many times more patient than Frankenstein, but he is no less deliberate in drawing out Ragar's pleasure to overcoming lengths. Ragar knows Raizel will pick him apart and make him melt by the end, eventually.

He feels bouyant, warm affection blossom within him as Sir Raizel leans over him and sighs against his neck. They are, to archaic noble standards, scandalously close — the _Noblesse_ and a noble who dared abandon his clan, his lord, his country. Even if he has long since stepped outside of Lukedonia's jurisdiction, Ragar still observes Raizel with utmost respect when he is fortunate enough to be graced with his presence. Raizel is kind and welcoming, and Ragar is touched by this.

In the warm lamplight glow of the bedroom, fingers slip under his mask and pull it down almost reverentially. Raizel is the only one other than Ragar himself who is privileged to perform such a motion.

Softly, they bring their lips together. Quietly, they kiss.

Ragar feels Raizel's hand press in between his legs, both gentle and demanding. It stirs learned desire within him, and he presses up into it. Ragar grinds against Raizel, feeling his partner with the entirety of his flushing body.

His pants soon wind up on the lonely side of the bed.

They are pressed to each other with audacious familiarity. "Sir Raizel," Ragar begins. "It is not that I do not greatly appreciate this, but should I not be pleasuring you instead?"

Raizel smiles at him slightly, eyes understanding and infinitely patient. "You very much already are, Ragar."

And Ragar understands this; he knows that their passions and pleasures are shared in these instances, that Raizel is pleased so simply by the knowledge that Ragar is pleased. They are both simple in this way.

Raizel runs his hands over him as he parts his thighs to straddle Ragar, graceful even in this context. Sir Raizel, still clothed, moves against him, sliding along Ragar’s cock and granting him a moment of friction as his fingertips and his breath flutter over Ragar’s bare skin. Raizel kisses at his jaw and finds his way back again to Ragar’s obedient mouth.

They grind against each other longingly for a while, as quiet as breathing, no words needed between them, not even without a bond.

Ragar grows heated and damp between them. He stains those gray slacks. Below his cock, his pussy clenches to be touched, stroked, and filled; it twitches for attention. “Sir Raizel...” Ragar murmurs, beckoning him towards more as his hands reach out to slide down Raizel’s waist and hips. Ragar grasps at him and presses him closer.

Raizel wordlessly nods and lifts himself off of Ragar. He backs away to bend down and takes his companion into his mouth. His lips are gentle, and his tongue is devious. So very rudely, Ragar’s cock hits the back of his throat.

Eyes wide and pulse racing, Ragar fumbles to pull up his mask as if it will do him any good in hiding his high color. “Ah, thank you, Sir Raizel,” he says quickly in habitual formalness before having the mind to remember that such things aren’t entirely necessary in these circumstances.

There is a smile in Raizel's eyes when he glances up at him. His mouth is wet and warm. When he exhales, his breath ghosts over Ragar's skin.

Ragar swallows and dares to brush his fingers against the hair that frames Sir Raizel's face.

In and out, Ragar's cock dips into his throat. Raizel's pace is languid, and his tongue slides and swirls against him knowingly. Ragar becomes aching to be fucked, but this does not hurry Raizel in anyway.

An eager, surprised twitch runs up his spine when Raizel lightly strokes at his inner lips with the back of his fingers, dull and teasing, hardly enough to satiate Ragar but enough to remind him of his presence and promise more filling events to come. As Sir Raizel increases pressure and pleasure, Ragar's cock and pussy become wet for him. Ragar shifts his hips greedily, pressing towards his partner.

Ragar sighs when Raizel finally slips his fingers into him. They sink deeply into his vagina. Slowly, they stretch him and Raizel welcomes his cock deeper into his mouth. Ragar closes his eyes and tilts his head back.

But Raizel does not drill him like he is used to. He does not fuck Ragar to orgasm, but Ragar savors his presence nonetheless. Raizel's touch is startlingly intimate.

After a while, the fingers within him hold still, and Ragar takes the moment to focus on them, how they press his warm, soft walls and drag him to the present. His pussy clenches, aching for movement and friction and girth, but Raizel witholds this.

Long moments pass before Raizel works at Ragar again, with greater fervor this time. He lets Ragar fuck his throat, and his fingers, now slicked with the slow dribble of Ragar's arousal, thrust and aim for heightened pleasure.

Ragar exhales roughly. Again, he tugs at his mask as he gazes down at Raizel. His hips rock briefly, restless.

It dawns on him gradually — his need to cum. Before he knows it, his cock is weeping precum and slick trickles from his pussy down onto the sheets and in between his ass. Each time Raizel drives his fingers into him brings him closer and closer, and his leige's gentle lips wrap lovingly around the considerable hardness of his cock.

Ragar hums. He groans quietly, refraining his hips from roughly thrusting with decided effort. "Sir..." Ragar sighs. He keens as a rise of the distinct hysteria of orgasm begins to overcome him.

Then, Raizel parts from him. Ragar slips out of his mouth, and his pussy is left coldy empty again.

Ragar feels his jaw tighten. His belly and inner walls clench at nothing. Wetness continues to leak from him, giving the lips in between his legs a shine and trailing from Raizel's fingers. He hungers for a swift continuation, but he knows Sir Raizel can be very patient with him. Ragar's hand grasps at the edge of his black shirt, consciously impeded from rubbing at his cock and pussy himself.

His breath picks up when Raizel traces his fingers along his vulva. He dips inside again, deeply, and when his fingers are utterly soaked, he withdraws. Raizel stokes at Ragar's cock with this collected slickness.

His cock pulses impatiently within Raizel's hold. Leisurely, he drives Ragar towards madness.

* * *

Ragar is denied a release for the thirteenth time or so, coming so very close only to be abandoned at the last moment, his body singing and aching for that last, mindnumbing bloom of pleasure. His cock twitches and his pussy gushes for it. He breathes deeply, bordering on gasping over and over again. He can feel the climax just beyond the edge of his reach. He squeezes and quivers, body pleading for Raizel even if Ragar remains speechless. He wants any touch, any touch at all, to send him straight over the edge.

Raizel resumes, crowding Ragar and presssing him down onto the bed. They kiss with fervor as they move against each other.

Ragar is quickly brought again to the edge. Boldly, he wraps his legs around Raizel's waist, holding him closer. He presses his body up and rocks against him. His hips grind against Raizel's, still clothed even now, as he desperately chases his pleasure that climbs higher and higher. He is so wanting that even this rudimentary friction is enough to drag him upwards.

But then Raizel grasps at his hips with both firm hands. Authoritative with the power of command bestowed upon him, he presses Ragar down and stills him before he can cum. Raizel's pants are streaked with Ragar's precum, now flowing generously and agonizingly.

Ragar groans. He huffs, closing his eyes, willing his obedience to Raizel's unspoken wishes.

They wait until Ragar has calmed enough to continue again without immediately climaxing, regardless of how much he wishes for it.

Ragar's pussy nearly spurts when Raizel's fingers enter him again, a heavy, longing gush of fluid further covering that hand. The edge of Ragar's crumpled shirt and Ragar's stomach are decorated with droplets and pools of precum. Raizel lowers himself to suck on his cock again as his other hand reaches over him to tease at Ragar's skin, dipping into and then dragging trails of precum.

Raizel takes the immensely wet signs of Ragars arousal and drags them down with soaked fingers to Ragar's ass. Carefully, he thrusts in, and Ragar gasps.

Ragar wonders if he can cum right then and there, but Raizel reads him too well and slows down before he can do so. Again, he is harrowingly pulled back from the brink.

It is only a few moments before he is wrenched once more to the edge. Each period of rest seems to be shorter than the last until Ragar feels as if he is almost in continuous orgasm, denied just enough from cresting over the peak, from truly having his release.

His breathing his hard and his eyes are wild with desperation the next time Raizel withdraws from him. He is trembling and jerking forward with the futile hope of completion. "Sir...Sir Raizel..." Ragar whispers, voice hoarse despite having not used much of it. He feels as if he can cum with just a touch.

And Raizel seems to understand this too. He plunges into Ragar's pussy, his fingers skillful and prodding. After a few knowing thrusts, he lets his hand rest there as Ragar's insides clench and convulse around him.

It is upon him faster than he expects. Ragar's mouth opens shamelessly as he gasps, expression twisting in the throes of pleasure. His climax overcomes him. It is long and heavy and drawn out, sweetly agonizing. Raizel has stilled his stimulation at just the crux of Ragar’s pleasure, and so Ragar’s body helplessly begs for more as it trembles in orgasm. His focus becomes potently concentrated on his sex, overflowing, desperately cumming on Sir Raizel's hand and ridding him of air.

It is unlike his private experiences with Frankenstein, in which Ragar is forced to orgasm with bursting violence and then hurried onto the next one before he can recover. Now, his orgasm seems to last an eternity, propagating itself with the sheer force of his restrained want. By the time he is finished, slick smears his pussy and inner thighs and pools beneath him. Cum dapples his skin and shirt. Shakily, Ragar sighs. He relaxes back and reaches down to tenderly trace a line along his pussy up to his cock, wetting his finger.

Raizel smiles at him, clearly content with his work, and he shuffles to lie beside Ragar. They face each other, faces rosey.

Silence marks the minutes between them.

Ragar drifts in a haze until he wakes enough to sheepishly pull at his mask and peer at Raizel with earnest curiosity. “Shall I pleasure you now, Sir Raizel?”

Raizel reaches out to touch the end of a lock of hair framing Ragar’s face. He considers Ragar’s words with great care. “If you must,” he answers with coyness exclusive to this private rendezvous.

The bed dips as Ragar lifts himself and turns to loom over Raizel, hands placed on either side of him. “It would be an honor, my liege,” he says.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Queen!
> 
> I know that in reality, my words won’t do much for you physically, but I really do hope you recover well from your circumstances. I can’t really say “get well soon,” considering the nature of your injuries, but in the meantime, here’s a bit of reading material as you recover. :)
> 
> Well wishes,
> 
> escspace


End file.
